Michael Anthis, Exclusively yours

A private nurse kills her aged patients, convinced she is delivering them from the torment of their final moments. She goes in and out of their world, decrypts ultimate gazes, phrases or gestures and gets lost in an endless “hide and seek” with herself, which won’t leave her in peace until the whole truth comes out. And truth, which favours the best hiding places, will bare its teeth like a hungry bear that has woken early from its hibernation.

“Quite unlike your own father. At some point he opened his eyes and gave me a calm, sweet smile… He was beautiful… A pity you missed that moment. Yet his smile was saying… “don’t delude yourself, Antigone, this smile is not for you, it’s for my son. Give it to him, please”. “I will”, I said to him, “you may go in peace”… (corrects herself)… “you may rest assured.” She “delivers” the smile.
“I hope I am not tiring you with all this. I don’t usually talk about my work. But seeing it was your father…” (“Listens” to the man reassuring her, and continues more boldly.) “I am so glad. It wasn’t easy at first, you know. I was worried. I couldn’t imagine two arms like mine, so small, could manage what two strong male nurses can hardly do. When patients let go of themselves, they get heavy. It feels as if you are lifting not just the man himself but his entire life, which has become a ball and chain that keeps him down. If I want to move my patient, I have to find a way to lighten that ball. Don’t ask, I don’t know how I do it. I have an idea, but I am not sure. I think that my own ball and chain, the one I carry myself, calls out his ball to play—lures it out. So our balls leave us alone, at least for a while. (Laughs, acknowledging the other’s supposedly doubtful attitude.) I am sorry your father didn’t make it. He went so peacefully. I am sure that he chose the moment himself. Just as I am sure he chose how to live. These things go together. You cannot live your way and then die in the way of another. Even if appearances are deceptive. Indeed, that’s why they are called appearances, because they appear differently to you, differently to me… I once had a patient who had spent his entire life in excess. Alcohol and drugs, mostly. There was no combination of the two that he hadn’t tried. He had a road accident which left him horribly deformed: you couldn’t tell apart his nose, his eyes, his mouth… Do you know what he told me just before he “passed away”? “I am glad I am dying ugly, because I led an ugly life.”

Director: Esther Andre González
Scenographer and costume designer: Christos Konstantellos
Actors: Konstantina Takalou and the author

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